


Wildly Misunderstood

by Mr_Pinniped



Series: Wildly Misunderstood [2]
Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Canon-typical hijinx, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oblivious to Flirting, Rivalry, Saving Duckburg, brief hand-holding, evil robots, science gone wrong, teaming up, useless gay nerds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:48:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25664653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mr_Pinniped/pseuds/Mr_Pinniped
Summary: Why did Gyro's sustainable energy project for Duckburg have to turn evil while Fenton was on vacation?  Now he was in over his head, and if he wanted to save the city, he'd have to accept the help of his longtime rival, Mark Beaks.  Both must learn to deal with the other’s technical expertise, coffee preferences, and inconvenient good looks.
Relationships: Mark Beaks/Gyro Gearloose
Series: Wildly Misunderstood [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2043871
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cover illustration by Rakish Raven, thank you so much!

The sirens continued to blare above Gyro as he unscrewed the panels from his computer’s shell and peered at the circuit boards inside. What was wrong? How could he fix it? And why did Fenton have to be on vacation NOW? Sure, it was Ma Cabrerra’s birthday, and Fenton had wanted to take her to the seashore for the weekend, but Gyro needed help NOW! 

“Why’s he gotta spend time with his FAMILY?” Gyro grumbled. “I haven’t seen my parents since…” He trailed off. There was a good reason he hadn’t contacted his family in years. Anyway, he was practically part of the McDuck clan now. 

It didn’t matter. What mattered was the circuit board in front of him was perfect, and he couldn’t tell for the life of him what had gone wrong with the city’s power system. It had been a good idea, he was still sure of it, to collect the natural heat from decomposing garbage and redirect the energy into Duckberg’s municipal power grid. It was sustainable, and improved the life cycle of every product that every citizen used. The system had run flawlessly for the past month, and now, of course, as soon as he had no help in the lab, half the city had no electricity, there was some sort of wild signal coming from the main power system, and nearly all of the alarms in Gyro’s lab were blaring loudly.

Maybe it was something in the code? He replaced the plastic panel over the circuit boards and booted up the computer. A loading screen appeared, with a slowly rotating sand timer. 

“Stupid machine. Load faster!” Gyro muttered, slumping down in his chair and glaring at the impudent hourglass. 

Something knocked rhythmically on the outside window. Gyro jolted upright. That window was under the bay! How on Earth was someone knocking?

If he was surprised by the sound of the knock, he was absolutely floored when he turned to see the face and form of Mark Beaks, wearing what looked like a nineteenth-century diving bell and torn trousers, banging on the underwater window. 

Gyro stared at him, open-mouthed. Beaks was gesticulating wildly with his hands, but Gyro had no idea what he meant. 

“Look- I can let you in at the side door! Swim up there!” Gyro pointed, overaggerating his pronunciation. “I can’t let you in this window- it’ll flood!”

Beaks just stared at him. “The. Side. Door.” Gyro pointed upwards again. Beaks finally nodded and swam up, and Gyro quickly ascended the stairs, pushing the emergency exit door open. He stepped out onto a narrow wooden promenade just a few feet above the smooth water of the bay. A steep, narrow path led up to the Bin's main entrance and the bridge towards town . Beaks hauled himself up onto the dock, panting, and removed his helmet. A cascade of water poured out over Beaks’ already-soaked form. Gyro wordlessly handed him a towel, which Beaks took gratefully, rubbing it over his face and fluffing up his feathers. 

“Don’t come in yet,” said Gyro. “You’ll get saltwater on the electronics.” 

Beaks stood dripping on the dock, while Gyro rifled through the cabinets in the vestibule. “Here it is.” He pulled out something that looked like a small plastic cannon. He pushed a button and the front end began to glow red as he aimed it as the bedraggled parrot.

“Um, Gearloose? What are you going to---” Beaks was cut off as Gyro pulled the trigger and a burst of hot air blasted Beaks, causing his hoodie to billow out behind him and the diving helmet to roll off the dock back into the bay. Beaks looked startled for a moment, then patted his clothes as the air shut off. He was completely dry. “Oh. Thanks.”

Gyro gestured for Beaks to follow him down the stairs into the lab. A couple of Bulbs followed them, lighting the way. “What is going on out there? Half the city is out of power, and there’s no wifi signal anywhere in town! How am I supposed to get anything done?”

“You and everyone else.” grumbled Gyro. “What are YOU doing wearing an old-fashioned diving suit in the middle of the bay?”

“Glomgold’s idea.” Beaks ran a hand sheepishly through his hair. “He thought we could use his trained sharks to fix the power, but first we had to find some stinging jellyfish, because… well, I didn’t really pay attention to the whole slideshow” Beaks admitted. “Anyway, I lost him in a current, but then I noticed that your lights were still on so I swam over to see if you knew what was happening.” 

“Yeah, I've got lights on." Gyro gestured to the array of Lil Bulbs that stood glowing on the various countertops of the lab. It was still dimmer than usual, but they could see well enough. "Though the computers are drawing from the backup batteries.” Gyro directed Beaks attention to the flashing alarm lights all over his desk. “It’s something with the sustainable energy network. I’m already trying to fix it.”

Beaks cocked an eyebrow at Gyro suspiciously. “Did the AI turn evil?”

Gyro sighed and put his face in his hands. He didn’t want to admit his greatest flaw to his biggest rival, but as Beaks had already guessed it, there was no use hiding it. “Probably. I can’t find anything wrong with the hardware.”

“Allright, probably the code then.” Beaks pulled a chair over and perched in front of Gyro’s screen.

“Hold up, Beaks. I’m not going to just let you look at my code.”

“How am I supposed to help you fix the problem, then?”

“How am I supposed to know that you aren’t here to steal my ideas? Or my equipment? Or my _intern?_ ”

“Cabrerra’s not even here. His mom posted a picture of them at Swan City Beach an hour ago.” Beaks held up his phone as if to show the post, but no image appeared. “Boo, the seawater must have killed it.” He pulled out another phone, but it was likewise unresponsive. He shrugged and set them aside.

“Yes, I know where Fenton is.” Gyro glowered at Beaks. “What makes you think I _need_ your help anyway?” 

Beaks laughed. “There are,” he stopped to count, “Sixty-seven alarms and warnings currently going off in this lab. Your tie is undone, your hair looks like you’ve been banging your head against the wall, and your desktop is _still_ stuck on the loading screen.”

“Ok, so maybe I could use a hand. What’s in it for you?”

“I like a challenge?” Gyro gaped at him, disbelieving. If Mark Beaks liked a challenge, maybe he would have created a worthwhile program by now. Something that advanced humanity, rather than just spun the money-spinner.

Beaks sighed. “Look, if you must know, I need the electricity back on A.S.A.P. We’ve just launched a new product. Making flip phones cool again!” he pulled a flip-phone from his jacket pocket, but, like the others, it was thoroughly impregnated with seawater, and began to smoulder in Mark’s hands when he pressed the power button. He tossed it away. “Big party this afternoon. Everybody who’s anybody in tech will be there. Including,” he dropped his voice a bit, “My mother.”

Gyro froze. He had met Mark’s mother, once or twice, back when the two of them were at university together before Mark dropped out to found Waddle. She was socially graceful, and popular even then, when she ran a magazine instead of a blog, and Gyro had found her utterly intimidating. 

Mark’s eyes had a soft, almost pleading look. “I won’t touch any of your circuits, or machinery. Just let me take a look at your code.” 

Gyro sighed. Fenton was gone, and Mark Beaks was here, and it was all to impress their mothers. Birth families weren't everything. Why did people put such importance on them? He looked back at Mark, the wailing alarms, and the hourglass loading screen on his desktop that seemed to have gained about three whole grains of sand since Beaks had gotten in here. “Fine. Don’t break anything.” 

Mark tapped a few keys and the hourglass disappeared. “Why are you still running Doorways 7? You should really upgrade to version 9. Much less buggy.” 

A few more keystrokes, and the compiler was onscreen. Mark started to scroll through it. “What programming language did you use?”

“Espresso. I know a lot more modern programs are using Boa, but I never really got the hang of it.” Gyro admitted. 

Mark nodded and pulled up the hood of his jacket, staring intently at Gyro’s screen, scrolling rapidly through lines and lines of code. Gyro sat back and watched him, feeling a little awkward. It wasn’t just that his rival was looking through his work. It was that his rival looked so… enthusiastic. He wondered why Mark never seemed to apply himself with this level of determination at his own company, why everything was always a scheme to take credit for someone else’s work. He was obviously clever enough, and clearly dedicated to the challenge in front of him. 

Gyro’s eyes wandered over Mark’s thin form and he shook his head. Yes, he found the Waddle CEO physically attractive. He had come to terms with _that_ inconvienient fact a while ago. But he had also vowed to never act on his feelings. Sure, Mark was handsome, in a nerdy way, but he was also selfish, egotistical, and petty. Fortunately, Mark was too focused on the code to notice Gyro’s wandering eyes. He let himself dwell on the smoothly swept hair, the little dark-gray spots… Mark was shivering a little, he noticed. The underwater lab was always a little chilly. Or maybe the heat-ray hadn’t completely dried him off. 

“Can I get you a coffee?” Gyro asked before he could stop himself.

“Triple-shot caramel macchiato latte, brewed at 189 degrees, full whip but no syrup.” Mark said automatically, without looking away from the screen.

“Um. Mr. McDuck doesn’t provide those sorts of frivolities for lab staff.”

Mark glanced up. “I’m not frivolous!” 

“Says the guy with a trampoline park in his office.” Mark glared at him, but Gyro crossed the room to the coffee-brewer and started it up anyway. “Look, I can get you coffee, cream, and sugar. That’s it.” He pulled a milk jug out of the mini-fridge and opened a small cardboard box full of sugar packets. “Oh, or there’s probably still some cans of Hi-Energy Pep stashed under Fenton’s desk, if that’s what you’d prefer.” 

Mark blinked at him. “Ok. One milk, two sugars.” Gyro handed a steaming mug back to Mark, then fixed a cup for himself before sitting down again. Mark, he noticed, was trying very hard to conceal the look of disgust on his face every time he sipped the drink, but soon he was absorbed in the lines and lines of code again.

“Ah! There’s your problem,” Mark said suddenly. “Come look.” He pulled Gyro’s chair closer so that Gyro’s chin was very nearly perched on Mark’s shoulder, and Gyro had to try very hard to not notice the soft fruity scent of Mark’s cologne. _Or do parrots just naturally smell like that?_

“It’s right here.” Mark pointed to the screen. “You’ve left a line break out of this if-loop. He pressed a key and the alarm sirens finally stopped wailing. “And you’re missing a set of parentheses here--” Mark added them and a few more warning lights blinked out. “And a close-bracket in the for-loop.” 

Gyro heard a buzzing sound as the regular city power came back on, bringing the lab’s fluorescent ceiling lights back to life. Both blinked in the sudden brightness of the room as the Lil Bulbs dimmed themselves automatically and returned to their cabinet. 

“I can’t believe it was a line break and some parentheses.” Gyro grumbled, slumping down in his chair. “Stupid mistake.”

Mark turned around slowly in his chair. “It happens. And honestly? The rest of it was brilliant. There’s not many birds in Duckburg who could construct a program like that.” He spoke softly, and tentatively reached out a gentle hand towards Gyro’s shoulder. Gyro, who was still staring angrily at the floor, jumped at the contact, and Mark pulled his hand back as quickly as if he had been burned. Whatever softness had appeared in his face was quickly replaced by his usual sarcastic sneer. “Of course, if you got with the times and learned Boa, your code might be cleaner. You might even come close to being as good a programmer as I am” 

Gyro scoffed, and turned to his other monitor, which displayed a map of the city’s power grid. Most of the residential and commercial power appeared to be back online. The main transmission station was still surrounded by warning lights, as was… Waddle Headquarters?

Gyro raised an accusatory eyebrow at Mark. “Ah. That might be a… little side project of mine.”

“A side project.” Gyro pulled off his glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose.

“It didn’t really get along with your power-grid upgrades.” Mark admitted. “I tried to hook it in, but I guess a fuse blew somewhere in the building. I’ve been running on backup generators for two weeks, but…”

“But if my system’s AI has turned evil, it may have taken out your backup generators.” Gyro glanced at the now-updating activity log beneath the power map. He found an entry from about an hour ago, just before Mark had shown up at his window. Sure enough, there were a series of outages and electrical shorts centered around one of the buildings at Waddle. “Care to explain, Beaks?”

Mark looked embarrassed and shuffled his feet. Gyro sighed, then stood up, grabbing a few tools and stuffing them into his backpack. “Well, it's almost certainly a hardware problem. We’ll need to get over there before anything else shorts out. I’ll get Launchpad to give us a ride.” 

He was surprised that Mark didn’t argue, but silently gathered his things then followed Gyro up the stairs out of the lab.


	2. Chapter 2

Mark was not accustomed to Launchpad’s driving, and he probably never would be. His knuckles were starting to hurt from clinging to the seat. Every time Launchpad turned, he was slammed either into the door or into Gyro, who was calmly perched next to him in the back seat, gently swaying from side to side in time with the motion of the car, tablet computer in hand as he ran diagnostics on the electrical system.

Ugh! How was Gyro Gearloose so darn _hot?_ With his glasses and his little bowtie and that focused look on his face. _And_ , Mark thought, _he’s_ _brilliant!_ It wasn’t fair. Mark could have ignored Gyro if he had simply been a cute but vapid twink, or perhaps a homely-looking genius, but intelligent _and_ attractive? Mark was finding his burgeoning feelings increasingly difficult to ignore, especially sitting in the close proximity of Launchpad's back seat. 

Another sharp turn threw Mark up against Gyro again, but to his relief, Gyro didn’t freeze up the way he had when Mark reached out to touch him in the lab. 

“Sorry, riding with Launchpad takes some getting used to,” Gyro said, helping to push Mark upright again with one arm. His eyes never left his tablet. 

Mark sighed and pulled his legs up onto the seat, hugging them to his chest. His phones were still dead. He had nothing to look at other than Gyro. Luckily, the chicken didn’t seem to notice, absorbed as he was in his work. 

“Almost there!” called Launchpad as he hit the parking lot gate at the turn-off to the Waddle campus. Mark glanced out the front window. Though they were in the parking lot now, Launchpad showed no signs of slowing down. There were some large trees out in front of the main building, and Mark felt certain that if Launchpad didn’t hit the brakes soon, they would crash.

 _We’re still not stopping. Now? No?_ Mark grabbed onto Gyro’s arm and screamed “We’re gonna crash!”

Gyro’s eyes flicked to the front windshield, then back to his tablet. He tapped the screen twice, then said “Override brakes”. The car immediately slowed, then rolled to a gentle halt, stopping mere inches from the first tree.

“Hey! We didn’t crash! Thanks, Dr. G!” Launchpad gave the two of them a cheery wave as they got out of the car.

Gyro gave Mark a sideways glance, and Mark could have sworn that he winked. Ignoring the butterflies that had just taken over his stomach, Mark led the way up the path to the main building. None of the lights were on, but that didn’t particularly matter in the bright mid-day. He still had two hours until the product launch party officially began, though he noticed a few of the caterers milling about in the courtyard, setting up.

A loud crackling sound was suddenly heard behind them. Gyro and Mark both turned around. An enormous Tesla coil was sticking out of the top of a trash dumpster. The dumpster was slowly rolling its wheels up a side road behind the main office building. As it went, lights briefly flickered in the coil’s presence, then went out again. 

“Blathering bagpipes,” Gyro whispered in astonishment, lowering his glasses. He looked from his tablet to the rolling dumpster and back again. “It learned how to drive?”

Mark went pale. “And that,” he admitted, “Would be my side project.”

“ _Your_ side project? That Tesla coil is _my_ sustainable energy distributor.”

“Not the coil, Gearloose! The trash dumpster! It’s the Municipal Automatic Refuse Collector.”

Gyro looked sideways at him. “The MARC?” 

Mark rolled his eyes. “Well, duh. Cleaning up the city is great for my image. Got some environmental investors to back it, keeps the green-tech fans happy--”

Gyro rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Fine. What is it doing with my Tesla coil?” The dumpster slammed into the concrete side of the building. A large crack appeared across all the second-floor windows. Several caterers screamed. The coil sent out a jolt of electricity, and the steel frame of the dumpster crackled for a moment, before the whole apparatus sped off in the other direction, knocking over some large, colorful umbrellas that were set just outside the office vestibule. 

“We’re going to have to disable it!” Mark grabbed Gyro’s arm and began sprinting towards the alleyway. The dumpster disappeared around the corner. 

“It’s too fast- we won’t catch it on foot!”

“Right.” Mark stopped and looked around. A line of electric scooters was parked on the other side of the road. He sprinted towards them and quickly mounted one. He twisted the handle, but it didn’t move. A small yellow light blinked balefully at him. “Shoot. They’re not charged.” He turned to Gyro, who was a few steps behind him.

“Got it.” Gyro pulled what looked like two ballpoint pens out of his pocket, but when he clicked them, they unfolded into miniature versions of the larger Tesla coil that, from the sound of it, was currently rampaging next to the Waddle cafeteria. He jammed the tip of each one into the power-port on the scooter. A row of green lights appeared and the scooter whirred to life. 

“Brilliant,” breathed Mark. He grabbed two helmets from the basket by the door and tossed one to Gyro. “Protect that amazing brain of yours.” He then sped off quickly enough to not notice Gyro’s slight blush at the compliment.

The two rounded the corner. The MARC was now spinning in wild circles on the little stretch of lawn between the cafe and the main office. Old newspapers were flying out of it, occasionally catching on fire when they touched the high-voltage coil. Periodically the dumpster lid would open and shoot empty soda cans at passers-by. A particular brave but foolish barista was attempting to scald it with the high-pressure espresso-maker, but he was quickly buried with fresh compost that cascaded out a small hatch in the dumpster’s side. 

“Allright, how do we stop it?” Gyro rolled up beside Mark. 

Mark pulled out his phone, then groaned when he realized they were all STILL dead from his time in the bay. “No remote access. Could you hack it?” He pointed to Gyro’s tablet, which was still displaying the interface from Launchpad’s car.

“And get a bunch of Waddle adware clogging up my device? No thanks. I'll disable it physically.” Gyro tapped the screen. “Launchpad?”

“Yeah, Dr. G?” The driver’s face appeared on the little screen.

“Come back around to my location. When you see a big evil dumpster, crash into it!”

“You got it, Dr. G!” Launchpad saluted and then disappeared from view.

“Gearloose, are you sure--”

Mark was unable to finish his sentence before Launchpad’s car sped around the corner, easily mounted the curb, and tore across the lawn before smashing into the dumpster, which skidded over the grass and came to a stop next to the coffee stand. All four of its wheels rolled harmlessly to a halt. The MARC was still angrily flinging recyclables, but it couldn’t move. 

“Hashtag AMAZING” crowed Mark, holding up his phone before realizing he still couldn’t take a selfie. He flung his dead phone away and grabbed one from the nearest barista. 

“Get in here Gearloose!” He looped an arm around Gyro’s neck and winked at the camera. 

“This is no time for social media! It’s not fully disabled yet!” Gyro pulled away as Mark posted the photo. “How do we turn it off?” 

“Control panel’s on the back side,” said Mark. “We just need…” His eyes fell on the oversized blue-and-white umbrella in front of the coffee cart. He seized it, and tossed the phone, still in camera mode, back to the barista. “Make sure I look cool, Javert. Follow me, Gearloose!”

He raised the umbrella in front of them like a shield and the two of them crept across the lawn with Mark deflecting the cascade of empty bottles the MARC was now shooting at them. They bounced harmlessly across the grass. “Hahahahaha! Pew pew pew!” shouted Mark, waving the umbrella with unconcealed glee. 

They made it to the control panel and Mark paused, looking uncertainly at Gyro. “Would you…”

“I’ll only look at your circuitry, not your code.” Mark nodded, and tightened his grip on the umbrella, letting Gyro kneel down next to the control panel.

Gyro pulled out another pen from under his hat. A few clicks and it was a Phillips-head screwdriver, which he used to pull off the front cover. Another click and it was a voltmeter, which he waved over the wires in the fuse box, muttering to himself as he worked. 

Mark watched as he continued to shield them from falling trash. Once again, he found himself feeling annoyed at how _attractive_ Gyro looked. Mark preferred to solve his own problems, anyway. And if he could show off by solving Gyro’s problems, even better. But he Mark, shouldn’t _need_ help, especially not from someone who looked so darn _sexy._ Gyro chewed on the end of his pen and Mark had to look away to prevent himself from thinking any more shameful thoughts about that broad, yellow beak. 

“What kind of battery did you use?” Gyro’s voice brought Mark’s thoughts back to the problem at hand. 

“Just a regular B-Cell.” 

“Oh, I see it now. Or what’s left of it.” Gyro held up a small molten lump. “Looks like the polarity on the resistor is reversed. That probably contributed to the overload. 

“Seriously?” groaned Mark, nearly dropping the umbrella. “I put the resistor in backwards? That’s… that’s such a stupid mistake.”

Gyro looked up at him with a gentle smile. “No stupider than missing a line-break and a set of parentheses in some code.” 

Gyro flipped the resistor around, and pulled a fresh battery from his pocket. The MARC stopped shooting trash, and moments later, played the friendly chime that all Waddle devices made when booting up. 

Mark balanced the umbrella against the side of the bin and sat down on the grass next to Gyro. Their eyes met as they sat there, quietly, for a moment, letting some of the adrenaline wear off. 

“You’re brilliant, you know that?” Mark broke the silence, laying his hand on the grass as if he hoped Gyro would take it. 

Gyro’s face really did turn red this time, but he smiled. “So are you. Takes a genius to _understand_ my code, let alone find my mistakes.”

It was Mark’s turn to blush. “Hey, you’re the one who stopped both of our inventions from going on an evil rampage around the city.” 

Gyro stared up at the umbrella above them. “Sometimes, the things that we think are evil, are just wildly misunderstood.” He looked back at down, and, to Mark’s eternal surprise, reached out and gave the parrot’s outstretched hand a little reassuring squeeze. 

“Umm… Dr. G? Mr. B? The evil garbage bin stopped. Are you ok?” Launchpad’s shadow appeared over the umbrella. Mark and Gyro jumped apart as if they had been shocked by Gyro’s Tesla coils, and the umbrella fell over. 

“Well...I should be getting back to work,” Gyro said, straightening his glasses. “I still need to get the main coil back online, and…”

“Wait.” said Mark. He wasn’t sure if he really wanted to ask this, but he went for it anyway. “You could stay for a bit. Check out the flip-phone party. As my personal guest?”

“I… I don’t really like parties. Loud music, too many people--” Gyro looked apologetic. 

Mark nodded and began to walk towards his office. Another thought occurred to him. He turned. Would this be pushing his luck to much? Gyro had already turned down one invitation, but the words tumbled out of him before he could stop himself.

“At least let me buy you a frivolous coffee?” 

Gyro stopped, then turned back towards Mark. His face broke into a wry smile. “Iced double-shot mocha, extra foam, no whip.” 


End file.
